


Love Token

by RefrainGirl



Series: Be My Ineffable Valentine [11]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: #ineffablevalentines, Anxious Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley in Love (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley's Bad Driving (Good Omens), Crowley's Bentley (Good Omens), Don't copy to another site, Established Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Light Angst, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Poetry, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Romantic Fluff, Sentient Bentley (Good Omens), Strong Aziraphale (Good Omens), Valentine's Day Fluff, but mostly just the love, love tokens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22670521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RefrainGirl/pseuds/RefrainGirl
Summary: Day 11 of the Ineffable Valentines collection.At a glance it was just like any other ordinary paper, blank and white. But then he turned it over in his hands, peering as closely as he could at the meticulous folds. The outer corners on each side of the paper were folded inwards, and on the tips of each corner was drawn a curvy line. When all of the points matched up, the lines created a tiny picture of a heart. No colors, nothing but the vague outline of it. The poor thing, it almost looked sad, or lonely.Crowley is rattled, to the point of actually running away, when he hands Aziraphale a small, folded paper square. Unsure as to why he is so unnerved by this seemingly normal piece of paper, Aziraphale decides to investigate. What he finds is that this innocent square is something he has been secretly yearning for since his Victorian days - a genuine love token.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Be My Ineffable Valentine [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619938
Comments: 18
Kudos: 104
Collections: Ineffable Valentines 2020





	Love Token

**Author's Note:**

> Man, this took forever for me to plan out! I actually had to do a decent amount of reading for this one, and the website I used for the information is listed below. Also, I wrote poetry again. Full ones this time instead of just a line or two, so... yeah.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“Crowley, what is this?”

An intricately folded paper square was being extended towards Aziraphale, half held out and half tucked back, as if Crowley were second-guessing whether or not to actually give it to him. His hand was shaking, and whenever Aziraphale reached out he reflexively pulled away. Then he would hold the paper back out again, almost like he was teasing him. But he knew his demon well, and there was no chance of this being a jape. There hadn’t been that much sweat coating Crowley’s brow in the entirety of their history together. It made him appear even more uncomfortable than he already was. He didn’t seem entirely sure what he was supposed to do, and his eyes were hidden behind dark shades, offering no clues as to his real state of mind.

Frankly, the behavior was very unsettling. Aziraphale had to bend down to look into his face, and that was not a good thing.

Crowley was staring so intensely at the floor that it could have burst into flames, and the angel wouldn’t have been surprised if the floorboards really did burn out of sheer will alone. “Do you want to tell me what this is?” he asked gently.

Whatever ‘this’ was, it didn’t look like anything that could justify such a distressed reaction. What he was holding appeared to be a normal piece of folded paper. Still, Aziraphale was certain that he had seen something like this somewhere, he just couldn’t quite place where.

Eventually Crowley took a deep breath, as if steeling himself. “It’s… I dunno, just a thing. Take it or don’t, see if I care,” he hissed, turning a face that looked like it was seconds away from combusting towards the doorway. Seeking an exit, looking for an escape route. Aziraphale had seen caged animals in circuses with similar expressions on their faces. The poor things were angry and fearful, searching for somewhere to run, to hide. Seeing it play across Crowley’s features made him feel terrible, and he found himself reaching a hand out, palm up, just as he had done for those animals when he had coaxed them out of their cages and introduced them to the idea of freedom. He didn’t want to offend him, hopefully that wasn’t what he was currently doing, but this was all he could think of to calm the demon down right now.

Softly, cautiously, he cupped Crowley’s hand in his. “It’s alright, dear,” he cooed, giving him a quiet, understanding smile. “I’d love to have it, if you’ll let me.”

It didn’t look like Crowley was upset by the treatment. Bewildered was more the word, judging from the way his mouth flapped like a dying fish. “S-sure. Fine.” Practically shoving the paper into his hands, he hissed out a breath, immediately stuffing his clenched fists into his pockets. “So… I’ll see you later.”

Aziraphale felt his smile falter. “You don’t have to go so soon, do you? It feels like you only just arrived.”

“Ngk. Er, as it turns out… I forgot! Yes, I forgot the crucial thing! Y’know, the thing that I originally came over to give to you,” he explained, backing out of the shop like he was facing down a deadly tiger. That grin was probably supposed to look suave and cool, but to Aziraphale it was verging on panic. “This wasn’t it, not really. ‘S just a paper, but I will be back just as soon as I find it. The other thing. Yep. I’ll be back, soon. Very soon.”

“Crowley - ”

“’Kay, bye!”

“But Crowley - !”

The bell above the door jingled, and Aziraphale frowned as a flash of black slipped through the crack. Just like that, Crowley was gone. He never did need to open it very far to get in or out. Must be convenient, being so slim.

With a brief glance down at the small square that had caused all this chaos, Aziraphale shook his head and stepped over to the shop window to stare after Crowley. He was stomping across the street with large strides, gesticulating wildly as he ranted to himself. Whatever was wrong, it had been upsetting enough to make him cross the road without looking both ways. An oncoming car screeched to a halt, almost nicking him with its bumper, and Crowley turned, still fuming, to slam a hand down on the hood before shouting profanities that everyone outside could hear. Even Aziraphale could hear from where he stood.

_Oh, the poor dear._

“I wonder if he’s alright,” the angel mused, watching as Crowley swung his car door open with an angry flourish. Then he sighed. “I hope he didn’t do anything to that person’s vehicle.”

Unfortunately, it seemed that he had done something after all. Crowley’s temper occasionally got the better of him, and when it did, he usually didn’t produce nice miracles for other humans. This was a decent example of that. Smoke was billowing out from under the hood of the person’s car, and no amount of turning over made the engine want to start. Aziraphale could see the human running his hands through his hair as the cars piled up behind him, honking and even shouting their irritation in a thoroughly unpleasant manner.

Well, he couldn’t in good conscience leave things like this, could he? Besides, he would have no peace for reading if he didn’t do something to stop all the noise.

There was a quick downward snap, and all of a sudden the smoke stopped, much to the person’s utter confusion. Turning the key made his engine rev in a fashion that it likely never had before, and Aziraphale simply nodded to himself. His good deed for the day had been accomplished.

_No need to thank me. It’s my treat, along with my sincerest apologies for my husband’s rude behavior._

Speaking of Crowley, he turned just in time to catch sight of the Bentley swerving into the lane. He cringed to hear the sharp squeal of tires, could only watch with growing concern as the car sped off at a pace that was quite a bit faster than Crowley’s usual 90 mph, leaving long tracks of flaming rubber in its wake. Passersby looked genuinely astounded that a classic such as his Bentley could reach that kind of velocity at all, and Aziraphale understood why they would be dumbfounded. Not many Bentleys ran on demonic energy these days, as far as he knew. And Crowley had never experienced what he had heard some people call ‘performance issues’ before. If ever there was an issue, he snapped it away without a thought. Issues were not allowed. Not with his pride and joy.

But as much as the angel wasn’t shocked by Crowley’s unruly speeding habit, he was pretty taken aback by today’s show of power. The Bentley often mirrored Crowley’s state of mind, he had seen it plenty of times. They were connected by the deep and unwavering bond of a demon and his precious car - although demonic energy probably played its part too - and whenever he was raging mad, or suffering under barely contained hysterics, his car suddenly became able to reach speeds that would tear a normal person’s skin straight off of their bones. Almost like it was trying to help its master out as best it could.

It had done that just now, assisted Crowley with his urgent need to get out of here, and why else would it work so hard unless he was stressing over…

Right, of course. The paper! It crinkled lightly in his grip, reminding Aziraphale all at once of its presence, and he frowned down at it. All of the answers had to be hidden within this single clue, and he intended to find out just what was going on. He had no choice but to take a proper look.

Immediately after he made up a nice, piping hot cup of cocoa, that is. An in depth examination of any nature simply could not go forward without proper sustenance, after all.

* * *

One mug of cocoa later, Aziraphale was sitting in his favorite armchair, listening to his gramophone drone on in the background as he frowned down at the mysterious paper. At a glance it was just like any other ordinary paper, blank and white. But then he turned it over in his hands, peering as closely as he could at the meticulous folds. The outer corners on each side of the paper were folded inwards, and on the tips of each corner was drawn a curvy line. When all of the points matched up, the lines created a tiny picture of a heart. No colors, nothing but the vague outline of it. The poor thing, it almost looked sad, or lonely.

That wasn’t the end, however. The corners looked like flaps of some sort, and if he could just find where the last fold was, then maybe he could successfully open it up without ruining anything. He traced the tip of a finger along one such line and used his fingernail to lift it open a bit. It came away without any trouble, and then he saw it. There were words written underneath, in what he recognized as Crowley’s elegant penmanship.

Calligraphy had once been a keen interest of his and, as expected, he had fallen out of practice quite a bit (“Nobody writes letters these days, angel. ‘S easier to text!”), but this was different. Aziraphale could feel the love radiating from the ink, and from the paper itself now that it was partially opened. There was so much here, endless amounts of it. A completely opposite feeling compared to what he had sensed from the small, pale heart exiled to the outer corners of the square’s folds.

Whatever this project turned out to be, Crowley had obviously taken a lot of care with it.

The underside of that fold had a larger piece of what appeared to be a bigger heart drawn onto it, shaded a deep, rich red, and…

Aziraphale blinked back his surprise, a sudden wash of recognition gripping him. Wait. He had seen these before, and he knew what they were called. The name was on the tip of his tongue, yet even if he never remembered it wouldn’t dim the rush of anticipation he felt at finally receiving one.

Could it possibly be…?

Holding in a breath that he didn’t need, Aziraphale reached for another fold. Slowly the rest of the paper unfurled under his guidance, and what he found within made his heart flutter.

“A love token,” he whispered, smiling with subdued awe.

That’s what had Crowley shaking in his boots. Valentine’s Day, love tokens. It all made sense.

This wasn’t just some plain card that said ‘Be Mine’, either. They sold those by the boxful at any convenience store and each slip was a dime a dozen, with a thousand equal matches that destroyed the uniqueness of the experience. Children liked handing them out to their friends and crushes as an excuse to either admit their feelings or get chocolate when the day rolled around, and there was nothing wrong with that. It was the new popular thing, certainly, just not what Aziraphale counted as the height of romance.

But what Crowley had gifted him was the absolute quintessence of romance - an archaic predecessor of the modern valentine, the original love token. It was called a puzzle purse, which was basically a love letter puzzle that you needed to open if you wanted to read the sentiments your love wrote for you. An old style of flirting, one of the oldest. Giving the object of your affection one of these was like declaring yourself as the best possible suitor among a sea of many.

Aziraphale had seen countless young men presenting them to the women they were courting over the course of the 1800’s, and he had always wanted to have one of his own to treasure. The likelihood of him receiving a love token was low, he had understood that they were aimed mainly towards the young ladies of the age; but all the same he had spent a lot of time going out to meet a certain dashing demon at St. James Park, and a tiny part of him had hoped that instead of talking business, perhaps he might just slip a special piece of paper into his hand…

Not a note asking for the one thing that rent his heart, but rather a neatly folded puzzle purse that could make it rise like a hot air balloon, higher than Heaven itself.

And now here it was, sitting in his sweating palms. A couple centuries late, but it was better late than never, as they say.

Aziraphale licked his lips. They had turned horribly dry upon the discovery of this perfectly romantic present, but he didn’t reach for his cocoa to quench his thirst. Something told him that he was yearning for more than a sip of cocoa, and that it would be coming along soon. Very soon.

The heart drawn in the middle of the page was huge, nearly bursting off of the page, much larger than the tiny one he had been forced to break apart to open the puzzle. Ornate vines threaded around the outer edge of the paper, curling along the heart and decorating it with a frame of minuscule thorns, but they were never quite close enough to touch. There was barely room to draw anything there, but somehow Crowley had managed it. His hands could be so still, so steady when they needed to be.

That gorgeous shade of crimson reminded the angel of how Crowley’s hair glimmered in the light, soft and radiant. In those moments, it was like he had never Fallen. Sometimes, though he never said this aloud, Aziraphale thought he could almost see the remnants of a stardust halo crowning his head, and he began to read with that enchanting image lingering in the back of his mind.

_This heart of mine that I provide_

_Has stood unflinching by your side_

_Though it is large, and cannot hide_

_I will not let my love go denied._

Aziraphale pulled his lips into a tight line, struggling to maintain his composure so that he could read the rest of the token. It really was too beautiful to explain. The writing, the emotions being expressed. He could even hear Crowley’s voice speaking the lines in his head, and oh, how it made his soul ache. How it made him want Crowley here! How it made him yearn to hold him close, to kiss him and whisper his own sweet nothings into his ear and his alone!

There were a few more lines written inside the heart, near the center of the page, and it was starting to overwhelm him. This all-encompassing love, the passionate and tender embrace of something that was beyond the physical plane. Crowley had infused this square with so much emotion that it made Aziraphale feel like he was drowning in a cloud of ecstasy. And not all of it was new, he could tell. This token had been held onto for quite some time, and he had just kept filling it with love over and over until there was nothing else for it to do but overflow. Opening it had released all of the pent-up love that he had been saving, and if this kept up then Aziraphale would be reduced to a sobbing mess of an angel.

Out of all the types of love he had ever felt, mother and daughter, father and son, young couples to the elderly, he had never experienced anything quite like this. He could honestly say that he had never been so utterly consumed by someone’s love, and never so completely.

There was no way out of this, and Aziraphale had always known that he wasn’t looking for a way out. But this… everything about this gift reminded him of why he had put himself through such hardship in the first place. All those years of keeping a safe emotional distance, pushing against the passion instead of pulling it closer. Stuffing down sweet and yearning feelings that could have easily been stepped on if they were found out. And it didn’t just remind him of _why_ , but _who_ he had persevered for, as well.

Who he had been trying to protect all this time.

A sarcastic, witty and teasing demon. The one being in all of creation who sincerely loved him back. The one who cared about him far more than he did anything else, who hid a heart of gold underneath everything else that was expected of him, and who did whatever he possibly could to protect his angel, no matter how dangerous.

Of course he hadn’t been the only one to hide. He hadn’t been the only one to protect, either.

“Oh, Crowley,” he sighed longingly, smiling as he read the remaining script.

_To no one else can this belong_

_For I have waited far too long_

_Since the beginning of ancient times_

_I’ve always seen you as my Valentine._

Thankfully that was the end of the love token’s writing, because Aziraphale could see nothing now that his tears had forced their way out of him.

How he was supposed to write a response while in this state was beyond him.

* * *

Crowley hesitated outside the bookshop, pacing back and forth while tossing the odd glance through the window. He wanted to go in to see the angel, but he wasn’t feeling too well. Heading home to stew for a few hours hadn’t really solved the problem, and downing two bottles of whatever he had lying about had only made him more queasy.

Also, he was terrified.

One hand gripped the doorframe as he worked to make his knees quit shaking. “Stop being so weak,” he muttered, running a hand across his face. “Just go in there, and apologize for making him worry. ‘S probably what you did, anyway.”

But as his hand reached for the doorknob, he saw it turn of its own accord.

Damn it. He knew he still wasn’t ready because his stomach had clenched into an impossibly tight knot, and he could actually feel all of the color draining from his face as he stared with dread at the jiggling metal knob. His anxiety was eating him alive on the inside. It was like a bloody parasite, chewing away at everything vital until there was nothing left but the urge to flee. It took a vast amount of willpower to stop himself from retreating back to the Bentley. He’d done that once already, and he didn’t want to put Aziraphale through it a second time. The first time hadn’t even been fair to him, so running away again wasn’t an option.

But…

Slowly, the door creaked open a smidge.

Not yet, not _yet_ …!

Crowley looked up just in time to see the door swing wide. Aziraphale was there, staring at him hard, his eyes rimmed with red, puffy skin and that could only mean…

Fucking hell, did he make him cry!?

Crowley’s brain flew into a heightened state of alarm at the sight, and soon he was scrambling for something to say that might erase his foolish mistake. “Angel, I’m sorry! It was a dumb idea, I - ”

The words died on his lips as a hand shot out to grab his collar. Crowley let out a surprised squawk as he was dragged bodily through the doorway. Sometimes he forgot just how strong his angel was, since he was generally a peaceful person. But, well… consider him reminded.

The door slammed shut behind them with a force that caused the ‘open’ sign to automatically flip to ‘closed’. Honestly though, Crowley didn’t take notice of that, and neither did he hear the agitated chiming of the bell as it swung haphazardly over them both. The only thing he was paying attention to was the intense glow of those cerulean eyes.

Just like that, it was him and Aziraphale. No other distractions. The sounds of the outside world were cut right off, turning the shop into its own private bubble of security.

… He was absolutely fucked, wasn’t he?

The angel had his shirt bunched up in both hands and was dangling him above the floor using nothing other than pure muscle. There was no way Crowley could break himself out of this hold without resorting to demonic means, and he absolutely refused to do that. He wasn’t about to hurt the being he loved, although realistically he was probably the one who’d have the most at stake if it came to that.

And it wouldn’t, because Crowley would never fight Aziraphale, even if it meant letting him deal the final blow.

But still, he wanted to solve this problem. Fights were normal, apparently. Anathema had told him so. People don’t always get along all the time, she’d said, even if they love each other very much. She and Newt argued occasionally, although those bouts usually involved him losing things of hers, to which Anathema ended up demanding he reveal where he had put them. Newt never seemed to remember though, and their household was in a constant state of disarray because of it.

Crowley hadn’t really cared that much about their ‘domestic troubles’, but her advice had stuck, regardless. It was a natural thing to argue once in a while, as long as you both took the time to talk it out and make up afterward.

The thing was, he didn’t know what to say to fix the situation. Nothing was springing to mind other than a thousand apologies that Aziraphale didn’t seem interested in listening to at the moment. All he could think to do was wait, and see what happened next.

He blinked down at the angel, staring through the lenses of glasses that hung crookedly on his nose. “Aziraphale…?” he asked helplessly.

“Quiet, you,” he whispered, and Crowley let out a startled yelp as he was pulled down into the deepest kiss of his entire existence.

He continued to hold him up as he mashed their lips together, and the weightless sensation coupled with the sizzling ardor of each kiss made Crowley feel like he was floating on air. Probably was, technically. Were his wings out right now? He didn’t think so, but it was also possible because this felt so good and when Aziraphale made him feel good he always wanted to stretch his wings out as wide as they could reach and just _soar_ …

Crowley moaned weakly, burying his hands in the soft golden locks he loved so much. No, that wasn’t right. He didn’t just love his hair. Crowley admired his speech, his waistcoat that was so ancient it was probably an ancestor to modern clothing everywhere, those lovely blue eyes that sparkled in his face whenever he smiled, oh Lord that smile…

He was positively smitten with everything that made up his gorgeous angel. Everything. If their corporations dissolved, never to return, he would still adore every last inch of him.

“Hah, angel, I…”

Crowley whined as Aziraphale captured his lips again, so similar to how he had captured his heart on the wall of Eden. Without even trying. Moments later they pulled apart, and the demon pressed his forehead against his before he could lean in for another kiss. “I wasn’t… I really wasn’t expecting this,” he gasped.

The angel was smirking, and holy shit, that smirk looked fucking _amazing_ on him. “What else could you possibly expect when you give me something so significant for Valentine’s Day? A handshake?”

Crowley laughed breathlessly. “I didn’t think you’d be so happy about it, ‘s what I meant. You look like you just finished bawling your eyes out.”

Aziraphale’s smirk morphed back into his usual kind smile and this time, instead of a sudden burst of fervor, he carefully lowered Crowley down into a sweeter, softer kiss. He didn’t even realize it when his arms and legs wrapped around the angel, holding him as close as he could. It was just an instinct at this point, and so was the technique with which he tangled his tongue around the angel’s.

He heard Aziraphale’s pleased hum right before he broke the kiss, and Crowley could feel his head swimming with disorientation as he tried to land back on planet Earth. “I did have myself a good cry, but it was from bliss rather than sorrow. Yours was the most romantic gift I’ve ever been given.”

Being gripped so tightly left those angelic hands free to cherish just as much as his lips, so he did exactly that, much to the pleasure of his demon. He reached up to run his fingers through every strand of Crowley’s hair and he sighed, giving up on the idea of grounding himself. There was no way he could, not when Aziraphale kept sweeping him off of his feet with every little thing.

“You liked it, then?”

“My dearest heart, I adored it,” he whispered, nuzzling into Crowley’s ear with a smile. “I adore you.”

He couldn’t prevent a shiver from shaking his spine at the moist breath on his ear. “Oh! Uh, er. Good, then,” he said, doing what he could to force his voice to sound anything other than hoarse. “Making that thing took forever, but it was worth it.”

“You know, it was a fantasy of mine that someday you might offer me just such a token, and today that wish came true. It was everything I had imagined it would be.”

The smile on his face quivered with emotion as he brushed a hand across Crowley’s cheek. “I was so very touched to read how you felt, Crowley. Thank you for the wonderful gift. I love you.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” he mumbled, moving to tuck his embarrassed expression away in Aziraphale’s neck. There was a slight rustling of paper in his pocket, placed there by a hand that was not his, and after a moment Crowley grinned. “Love you too, angel.”

**Author's Note:**

> The whole idea of a puzzle purse valentine sounds really cool and romantic to me! As I read more about them, I found myself wanting to make one, and if you head to [this website](https://herreputationforaccomplishment.wordpress.com/2015/02/09/three-love-tokens-for-valentines-day/), they have links on it that can direct you to another site that shows you step-by-step how to fold your own! Feel free to check it out if you want to make your significant other a special puzzle purse for Valentine's Day! And thank you for reading!
> 
> Come and say hi on Tumblr!
> 
> You can find me at my main blog [@refraingirl](https://refraingirl.tumblr.com/) or at my writing blog [@refraingirl-the-writer](https://refraingirl-the-writer.tumblr.com/)!


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